In Your Arms
by GerryPhan
Summary: Oneshot. Suprise Ending! A short on Erik and Christine after her return till his death. Please Review!


Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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Below the opera house, well the remnants of it anyway, dwelled two figures that resided there in the company of each other. He assumed that the world thought she was dead like him, lost in the ashes of burnt remnants that the fire had destroyed. That is why they never came looking for her, and she was left to be with him after she had returned. If the boy was good for anything, it was that he kept her existence a secret.

The room was well lit by the glow of candles and the warmth of the fire burning in the music room. The petite figure sat on a sofa, quiet. A man walked into the room holding a small tray.

"Please drink this my love. I promise you it will remedy your voice to return, please?" He kneeled before her and pressed the cup to her lips but she refused to drink. "I see. There must be a price to pay for having you here with me." The traumatic events of the night before had taken a toll on his beloved. She had remained silent since then. He contemplated the fact that she may stay like this forever. Then he spoke his feelings to her after a moment of deep thought.

"If I never hear your voice again, no matter how much it will pain me to see a talent such as yours go to waste, I am still overjoyed just to be in your presence. I do ask you to come lay in your room. You feel cold to the touch." With that he carried her to her bed and placed her under the covers. He sat next to her and held her hands. He was about to let go but her hands stayed placed in his. He looked into her eyes, and she stared back, as if wanting to say something.

"If you want to say something, please do. You know you may tell me whatever your heart desires." She just continued to stare. "Is it about me? Please, no matter what it is, good or bad, tell me." He sat like that waiting, "Perhaps I should get you some paper to..." She did not answer yes or no. He stayed. He knew deep down what she wanted to say and it killed him. "I know my dear, I know. You will stay here not as my wife, but as a friend, even for that I am forever indebted to you." Tears began to fill her eyes or perhaps it was his eyes that overflowed. He couldn't see her face. It was all blurry. He blinked and his distorted vision disappeared. She just sat there perhaps unsure of what to do. He decided to leave before he made her uncomfortable, and before he couldn't control himself with his unrestrained grief. His throat was contracted and could hardly get out "Sleep well".

With that he closed the door to her room and left to his. There he collapsed trying to hold on to the wall for support, clawing at it as his legs gave out beneath him. Loud gasping sobs wracked his body. He knew he would never fully have her, but he had to learn to content himself with her just being there.

Years passed and words never came forth from her mouth again. Their situation as simply friendly companions never changed. She became more and more in likeness to him as time went on. He hardly ever ate, and she ate even less. He would eventually learn just to let her be in the kitchen and she would take care of herself. He never cooked anymore, what was the point if she never ate it.

She was always cold like him, a delicate person like herself was not cut out for the damp cellars, but never did she once complain. His nights were often of light sleep and sleep did not come to her either. He would leave her in her room at night. Her eyes were always wide awake when he left her. In the morning she would be waiting for him, fully awake, like she had been awake for hours. He was a quiet man by nature, and she was even quieter. Never did she demand his attention for anything. She was as independent as him, perhaps even more.

The years continued to pass by till finally his life was finished. That evening he knew would be his last. He went to her and lay down beside her in bed. "I fear I will not be with you much longer." He looked into her eyes and she looked back. Stunned silence was her only reaction. "My love, I want you to know that even though you never loved me as I have loved you, I've never regretted your being here. I have grown to love you more and more as the years have passed. I believe my puny mortal heart can no longer hold all the love I have for you and is spent. You were the one thing that kept me alive, and ironically, the death of me as well. Do not mourn me my love. I can not think of a way I would rather go than in your arms." He took her hands and wrapped them around him, he in turn he wrapped his around her. A sharp pain overtook him and for one last time he looked into her eyes. "Christine...", he whispered. Then he closed his eyes and was gone. She remained there wrapped in his arms for all eternity. She wouldn't leave him, she couldn't leave him. How could she? After all, she was only a mannequin.

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A/N: Surprised? I thought of this and had to jot it down. Tell me what you all think! R/R! 


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